


Ianto Jones and the worst sex ever

by Arnica



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Bad Sex, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, F/M, M/M, Pretending to Be Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arnica/pseuds/Arnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto Jones isn't gay. Not even a little. Which has absolutely no bearing on the fact that he's about to have sex with Jack Harkness come hell or high water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ianto Jones and the worst sex ever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the bad sex fest on livejournal. For the prompt "Pre-Cyberwoman. Ianto tries to lie back and think of Lisa, but Jack notices he isn't aroused." by one of my favorite fandom people, czarina_kitty who obviously didn't beta this for me. Even though it could use it.

Ianto Jones isn't gay. He's not even sure if he's _bi_ (although Lisa says she thinks most people are at least a little bi) but he is sure that he needs Jack distracted. He needs a reason to stay around the Hub when everyone else leaves and Jack's hand low on his back (and recently high on the swell of his arse) is probably the only thing that will work more than once.   
  
It's an awesome well thought out plan, except for that fact that Ianto is Really Not Gay. Really. He's watched porn that kind of made his stomach twist when he tried to imagine himself on either side, read things on the Internet that actually woke him in a cold sweat, and has maybe gone on a diet and spent an uncomfortable amount of time thinking about what to do with his body hair. Seriously. He's thought about his _body hair_ and cannot figure out what to do about it because Ianto Jones is Really Super Not Gay.

Which has nothing to do with the fact that Ianto is also currently sitting on the edge of Jack's desk with just his trousers on, feeling like he's really not cut out to be the girl in all this. Not that there's a lot of choice since Jack is touching Ianto the way Ianto touches women when he's certain he's got his hands on a sure thing. Jack's been kissing him and so far that's been fine. Kissing Jack is never a problem and the combination of Jack being a great kisser mixed with Ianto's favorite filthy thoughts of Lisa have been doing their job to at least kind of get him into the mood if not exactly enthusiastic, but that's becoming harder to keep up with as more and more of his clothes go missing. Fingers pinch his nipple almost too hard and it feels good even when it hurts. He squirms away from the uncomfortable sensation and freezes as his knee brushes against the thick ridge of Jack's cock. It's hard enough that Ianto feels it jerk against his knee when he brushes against it, straining against the zip of Jack's trousers and he can't breath and is maybe thinking about punching Jack in the face and escaping because that thing is entirely too big and there is no way he's letting that thing in him. At all. Ever, not even to save his own life.  
  
And then he remembers that he's saving  _Lisa's_  life, not his, and spreads his legs further for Jack to step closer in. The Captain groans low in his throat when Ianto yanks him closer by the belt loops and bites at the smooth hard muscles on Jack's chest (and now Ianto's really wondering if he made the wrong decision not shaving his chest but dammit he just can't do it. It's just...really gay) while he fumbles the older man's fly down with trembling fingers. He can do this.   
  
It's kind of like tossing off. He uses his off hand, uses spit and the flow of slick pre-come to work his thumb over the head and right on that sweet spot under the crown and  _this_  he can do. He's got his eyes squeezed shut as he bites at Jack's throat and that low rumbling moan vibrating up through his teeth is kind of sexy and he can totally do this. Ianto can totally do this.

"Bed or desk?" Jack's hands are in his hair, tugging his head back to hiss in Ianto's ear and he mumbles bed because it buys him more time and if he's getting buggered tonight there's at least going to be a mattress under his knees. Jack's staring down at him and Ianto knows his eyes are too big and his breathing is too fast but he's really hoping he just looks horny because he's starting to think this isn't going to work and then Jack's eyes go a little bit darker and his grin tilts a little closer to a smirk. He steps back, hooking his hands in his belt loops so the weight of his hands drags his fly down far enough that Ianto can see the fat shiny head of his cock peeking out above the zipper and for a second he thinks seriously about standing up, walking away and just coming up with something else except he's spent weeks of flirting trying to come up with a plan that wasn't this and he can't. He hasn't got one.   
  
He can do this. It isn't going to kill him.   
  
Jack swaggers backwards, grinning at him like a dare and doesn't even bother climbing down, just sits and drops straight down onto the bed there.   
  
This is his chance. Ianto can walk away now. He can get his shirt on, run like hell, and he's pretty sure Jack wouldn't even say anything about it later. But that wouldn't explain Ianto's continued interest in hanging around after the others leave. He kicks off his shoes, slides off the desk with a thump and stalks over to the manhole before he can talk himself out of it.   
  
He climbs down it and has no idea how to get around the fact that he's not hard. At all.   
  
Jack's across the room in a little yellow pool of light standing at a chest of drawers, back to the bed as he curls his braces on the top. He looks a little startled, kind of confused, and maybe a bit exasperated but mostly just kind of pleased as he sees Ianto come down the ladder and stand on the bed, yanking his belt loose. The man reaches up and turns the knob on the kind of heavy old sconce that Ianto's granny's house used to have on the walls, dropping the bunker into a deep blackness except for the pool of ambient light from the office upstairs and Ianto flops out of it in relief, yanking his suit trousers off in a rush and letting them drop into the floor by Jack's bed. He leaves his boxers on because he can't make himself peel them off and tries not to flinch back when a heavy weight moves over him. For a moment he sees the angles of Jack's jaw and the curve of his bicep outlined in reflected light and then the hatch overhead is pulled down and suddenly the room is pitch black.  
  
It's easier in the dark, buried under blankets to his chin, to not flinch away when Jack slides against him. The Captain's hands are firm without going to close to that weird edge of pain and awesome again, he's got those full soft lips working on that sweet spot at the base of Ianto's throat and it's good enough that he's starting to get kind of into it, but he can't manage to keep up a steady stream of images of Lisa to get him all the way to actually turned on. Jack's just too different and it's hard to think about how soft and wet your girl gets when you've been working her over until she's trembling when he's got a man rubbing a very obvious cock against the cut of his hip.  
  
"Look," Jack's voice is husky in Ianto's ear, which is good, but wryly amused which probably is not. "This isn't part of the job description you know." Ianto freezes and feels himself go nervously cold before blushing so hard from head to toe that he's surprised he's not visible in the darkness. There's no way Jack doesn't feel his body heat up.

"I know. It's...I can't." He can't stop himself from being honest but Ianto's got one chance at this and he's got to say this just right or he's going to undo weeks of really uncomfortably difficult work. Jack starts to slide away and Ianto reaches up, grabbing for the broad swell of his shoulder and stroking up to lace his fingers behind Jack's neck. He presses himself closer, no need to hide now and refuses to let the man move away. "I _want_ to. I do. I just...I haven't. Not in months." If good lies are at least ninety percent truth than this is the best lie ever because so far all of it's true. He hasn't had the time or the inclination for so much as a quick wank since the day the tower fell and he does want to be with Jack. He really wants to, he needs to and he can't. He just can't. "I was hoping...I don't know. I thought something would change." Over him Jack hasn't moved really, hasn't said a thing and this is the last card Ianto has up his metaphoric sleeves. If this doesn't work he doesn't know what to do. He keeps Jack's neck in the palm of one hand letting the other trail, fingertips grazing skin, down the length of Jack's body across a pebbled nipple, down a flat ridged stomach to wrap around the still hard length that's been leaving slick trails against the side of his hip and thigh. Over him Jack's breath stutters in his throat and Ianto presses upward and trails his tongue up the length of Jack's adam's apple. "I wanted to...I _want_ to; I just can't right now, okay?"

 

  
And holy shit it works. His boss thinks he's a twenty-three year old ass virgin (true) with a traumatized cock (probably not true) but apparently that's fine with Jack Harkness as long as it's fine with Ianto Jones. He rolls his hips, fucking shallowly into Ianto's fist and letting Ianto kiss him like he's never wanted anything more than for Jack Harkness to want him. It actually works, Jack bracing himself on one hand and reaching down with the other, wrapping his broad hand around Ianto's and pulling it away long enough to tug it up between them and swipe the plush wet surface of his tongue across Ianto's palm. He slicks it up and that actually feels remarkably good, catching Ianto's breath in his throat as Jack bites the swell of flesh at the base of thumb. He lets Jack tug his hand back down between them and guides Ianto through what he'll later think is a pretty good hand job for someone who's never given one before. It doesn't take long, thankfully, and he doesn't freak out when Jack _comes on him_ despite the fact that it's kind of gross and he obviously owes seven girls an apology and maybe some flowers. With wet-wipes tied to them.

It's easily the worst sex he's ever had and Ianto kisses the body over his gratefully at the bolt of the jaw as Jack nuzzles at the soft skin behind his ear.

"Did you want to stay?"

"Yeah." It means he doesn't have to come up with an excuse to sneak back in early. "I think I'm gonna go down to the locker room and take a shower. I have clothes down there." He has no idea what to do if Jack offers him clothes or a shower. Instead the older man slides off him and flops close enough to smear spunk across their stomachs.

"Alright. Let yourself back down when you're done." He pats Ianto's hip absently and the boy tries not to scramble away as he climbs over Jack and up the ladder, almost crashing into it before getting the man hole cover up. He swings up onto the edge and looks down between his knees at Jack. Ianto can see a sliver of Jack's face in the light streaming down past his body, the curious arch of his brow and the satisfied curve of his reassuring smile. 

"Sorry it kind of sucked." He mumbles it between his teeth and Jack huffs in amusement.

"I've had worse than that with people I've found a lot less interesting than you, kid. Try not to step on me when you come back."


End file.
